


Martin and Benedict Behind Closed Doors

by KimberlyAlexis



Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Completed, F/M, M/M, Open Relationships, Past Lovers, no triggers, nothing bad happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyAlexis/pseuds/KimberlyAlexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>IF Freebatch is your thing then this might be for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June 19th 2015

**Author's Note:**

> This is hard to explain but basically I'm tying to match real world events up with a story. Some days will be more exciting than others. The story will take place one or two days behind. It'll encompass a lot of styles. This is all fiction except for the things that aren't fiction.
> 
> // EDIT completed 07/14/2015. This story took place from June to July 2015. It matched up real world events in Benedict and Martin's life with a storyline. Benedict and Martin hadn't talked for months before this story began....or at least that's the premise and away we go from there.

Martin rolls out of bed, moves to sit on the edge, and lazily looks out at the hazy sky, almost morning and absolutely nothing is right in the world. Well , he amends, as he hear Amanda's gentle snores drift over to him, some things are right. He's lucky. He knows that. He'll even go so far as to call it blessed. He's got plenty in this crappy old world, way more than most people have and things keep opening up for him.

His career is...well it's actually a career right now. He has plenty of projects, not just ones from old mates, to pick from. He's got movies in the can.  If he ever got stuck at one of those inane parties where people ask what project you've just finished then he'd have something to say and he wouldn't just have to fend off moronic questions about when bloody Sherlock was coming back.

And the kids were amazing. He'll rarely admit it but as long as those two munchkins are in his life then he knows he'll be content. Still right now he can't help but wonder about how things are with....him. Him is all he can think to call the tosser right now. They'd left it completely fucked, utterly shit, and just out and out bollocks.

It was a mistake. Of course them sleeping together was a mistake. Of course it was.  But it was fine. Amanda was okay with it. She even teased him about it a time or two. About how when he came home after shagging Ben he had a stupid lop-sided grin on his face that she hadn't seen before. She even giggled when he said to shut up or he'd tell her what Ben's o-face looked like. Still things got out of control and of course bloody feelings got involved. Of course they did because everyone damn well knows that you can't fuck a friend without feelings getting involved.

Thing is he wasn't sure whose feelings were the most....real? Is that the word he was looking for? The most something. They'd done it and then done it again. And then they did it a shitload more times after that because they were both idiots. And it wasn't like Ben was the first man he'd been with and he was sure the same was true for Ben. But the fact of the matter was he does believe , at least when it comes to him, it was the first time the desire had been there for so long that he couldn't stop himself from-

 

"You okay?" Amanda turns over and blinks slowly at him. Still sleepy. Adorable, he thinks.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"Mmm about what?"

"About how cute you are when you just wake up." She smiles. He's a charmer. He knows it. But so does she. 

"Liar." 

He sighs. It's going to sound pathetic. It sounds pathetic just thinking it but it is what it is.

"I'm thinking about Ben."

"Oh," she says and lets her eyes drift shut, snuggles into the bedclothes more. "What about him?"

"Just, I dunno. I feel a bit of a shit for not having said anything."

"Ahh. Well I said something."

"You did?"

"I couldn't have our friend thinking we're both assholes who don't care about him."

He smiles. "What'd you say?"

"Oh just a text. Congratulations and may your son be a masculine man...unless that's not his thing and then may he be a feminine man...unless that's also not his thing.....then may he be a super good dancer because that's everyone's thing."

"Funny."

"I know. I'm very funny."

Martin gives a sigh, stands up finally, picks up his phone and runs his fingers over the face of it. He really should say something.

"It's okay if you're still upset," she says. 

"I'm not..."

"Just." she cuts him off. "Don't do something you'll regret."

Martin sticks out his chin "Maybe I like having regrets."

"Oh I see. Well that explains the ugly tie you bought yesterday." she laughs.

"Heeeeeey."

"Kidding, love.  Kidding. Now let me get back to sleep. I was having the most delightful dream about Chris Pratt."

"Really? Well remember to tell him you like that thing with the swirl."

"Oh he knows. He knows."

Martin laughs and walks out of the room. It's far too early for the kids to be up still he quietly creeps past their room and out into the garden. It's time. He knows it. He picks up his phone, pulls up Ben's text convo, pointedly avoids reading the last things they texted (all in anger), and pecks out a few words, erases them and tries again. He could start this conversation many ways but humor is always his friend so he tries that and presses send.

 


	2. June 20th 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To save confusion.  
> Benedict = **Bolded**.  
>  Martin = Italics.  
> This is a dialogue heavy bit.  
> (remember there will be lots of styles in this fic)

_Don't name that kind something poncey or else I'll send my kids around to bully him._

_And don't name him Benedict._

_"John" and "Christopher" are good names._

_If you don't want to out and out just call him "Martin."_

 

**You're really suggesting I name our son "John"?**

 

_No, if it were OUR son then we both know I'd be picking out the name._

_And it would definitely not be John._

_Though I suppose whoever carries this miraculous child conceived by two men gets to be the one who names him._

 

**Baggsy being the one who doesn't have to carry our miracle child.**

 

_You know what? I owe you one. So fine I'll be preggers._

 

**Our fans would kill to read this conversation.**

 

_That they would._

 

**So**

 

_So?_

 

**We're talking.**

 

_Technically "texting" which isn't as serious as talking._

_I think it's why kids these days fancy it so much._

 

**Fine not "talking", but we're communicating.**

 

_We are._

_I think._

 

**I'm not going to apologize.**

**Well again.**

 

_I'm not saying you have to apologize again._

 

**I'm also not going to say it was a mistake.**

 

_I'm not saying you have to say it was a mistake._

_..._

_Was it a mistake?_

 

**No, it wasn't.**

**I don't like how things ended but this was always going to happen wasn't it?**

 

_I suppose you're right._

_And I've been a bit of a shit too._

 

**Nothing new there.**

 

_Oy!_

 

**Sorry.**

 

_I'm trying okay?_

 

**I know. I appreciate it.**

 

_Well okay._

_I suppose that's that then._

 

**Aren't you going to congratulate me?**

 

_Amanda said she already did._

 

**Amanda isn't you. I want to know you're happy for me.**

**Martin, I'm a father.**

 

_You are. You are._

 

**I'll probably be a shit one but I'll give it everything I have and more.**

 

_You'll be a great father, Ben. In fact Happy early Father's Day._

 

**Thank you.**

**I appreciate it.**

**Martin, do you mind if I ask you a question?**

 

_Not at all._

 

**If I had asked? What would you have said?**

 

_I'm not sure._

_I like to think I'd immediately say no._

_But there were too many times where it felt like..._

_I'm not sure._

 

**Like it was the most right thing in the world.**

 

_Something like that._

 

**But there's more than one way to do things you know.**

 

_I'm aware._

_But it's all too complicated right now to even consider._

 

**I'm just glad we're talking again.**

**Maybe we can go back and do re-shoots on the show.**

 

_Shut it ,you._

_I may have been completely livid with you but I'm not getting a retrafta. I still brought my A game._

_Or at the very least my B- game._

 

**Well I don't think I did.**

**I was completely miserable then.**

**Between the Oscars and the planning and then you hating me.**

 

_I never hated you._

 

**You did.**

 

_No, Ben, I didn't._

_I could never hate you. You stupid bastard._

_I could ,perhaps, piss in your tea._

 

**Tell me you didn't.**

 

_...:)_

 

**Oh God.**

 

_...:) :)_

 

**Martin, tell me you did not golden shower my tea and let me drink it.**

**Martin?**

**I'll call you if you won't respond.**

**Martin?**

**I'm calling.**

 

 

"Martin? Martin stop laughing and tell me if you pissed in my tea."

 

"Okay. Alright. No. What do you take me for?"

 

"Obviously someone who could piss in another person's tea."

 

"Well you're wrong. I did let them give you caffeinated one day when you asked for decaf."

 

"You arse! That's why I was up all night on the second day. I needed sleep! I had two interviews the next day."

 

"Ha! Well serves you right for breaking my poor lil' heart."

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"Martin, You didn't say-"

 

"It's nothing. Leave it, Ben. We're talking now aren't we? Let's not ruin it."

 

"Right. Well I-I should go."

 

"Lots of nappies to change I assume."

 

"The smell is abominable but also--don't laugh-- I cant help but think I made that little poop monster."

 

"You did at that. Congratulations, Ben. Really on everything."

 

"Tha-Thank you, Martin. I-I miss-"

 

"Don't."

 

"Right. Can we meet for lunch or? When did you want to see him?"

 

"I'm free tomorrow."

 

"Come round mine?"

 

"I'll be there."

 

"Alright bye love. I mean. I mean..."

 

"Bye love. Tomorrow."

 

"Tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please subscribe so I know if anyone is digging it. XD


	3. June 21st 2015 [Part One]

There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. After the past few months today should be the least nervous day of all. He's done it.  He's done it all. He's gotten through the trudge of the bleedin' Academy Awards. He promoted the film as much as possible. He's helped , at least he hopes he has, further the legacy of Alan Turing. He's showed up when he was supposed to. Stood on his marks when he was supposed. Said the words. Said all the words he was supposed to say. And he's gotten married. Finally married to someone who is gorgeous and amazing. And now he has a child. A son. A son who is, not that he's biased, perhaps the most precious child ever to be born in the history of this world. He's staring down at his son and he is smiling. He is so full of love and happiness and he is giddy, absolutely giddy at the fact that he is getting everything he has ever wanted.

Still he's a bit nervous. He can't help it. That's how he always is around him, full of nervous energy, always a tiny bit worried that it's all going to come crashing down. Again, he thinks. Hopefully not again will it come crashing down with accusations and so much pain that he could hardly breathe.

He hears Sophie walk slowly in the room and come up behind him, feels her wrap her long arms around him and lean close, her head on his shoulders,  he feels her warm breath, can imagine her smiling as she pulls him even closer, tighter.

 

"You nervous?" she asks.

"No." He lies. "Not at all."

"Liar," she says. "I can always tell when you're lying, Benedict. Just you remember that."

"What gave me away?"

"Everything," She says with  a giggle and gives him a final squeeze before letting him go. She walks around and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "But I think the thing that gave you away the most is the fact that you're always nervous when you're around Martin."

Ben laughs but also pretends to gasp in shock. "I don't know what you could possibly mean."

"Sure you don't, love. You know there's a reason all those fans think you two are doing the do 24/7."

"Fans are rarely right about those things," he says and doesn't look up when she laughs and says.

"They usually are when it comes to you though."

"Shush," he says. "Come over here and look at this thing we made. This wonderful thing."

"That thing needs a name you know."

"I know. We've got to decide."

"What are we down to with choices?"

"Henry, Timothy, Kenneth, and your ridiculous suggestion of naming him that....that horrible name."

"What horrible name?" She says, mocks innocent, walks over to a bowl of fruit. She's been eating nothing but fruit since the baby was born. Ben mentally creates a list of fruit he wants to pick up when he's out. She takes a bite out of an apple, chews for a bit, swallows then smiles. "Oh could it have been something like--what was it again? Benedict Timothy Carlton?" She throws her head back and laughs as Ben groans at the mere thought.

"I will not inflict that horror of horrors on our child."

Sophie smiles and sits down in the big, comfy rocking chair they picked out together. "God I love this chair. I could stay here all day. I'm still so exhausted."

Ben smiles at her. "You have every right to be. You did just push a small human out your body. I imagine you'll be tired for some time."

"About 18 years I reckon," she says and winks before letting both eyes drift shut.

"Stay there," He says and walks over holding their son in his arms, he leans down and gives her a gentle kiss on her forehead. Sophie smiles quickly before snuggling closer to the chair "Dream really good dreams and I'll bring you back a treat."

Her right eye pops open and she grins "A pony?"

Ben laughs. "Two!'

She closes her eye and and dreamily says, "Two ponies for Sophie."

The baby starts to stir, Benedict leans over him and shushes him, "Let's let mummy rest. Time to go meet uncle Martin."

And as if his son understood the importance of those words he quiets down, closes his eyes, and falls back to what looks like to be a blissful sleep.

He lays his son in the pram and covers him up with blankets. He looks around at the sitting room, at the cavalcade of gifts and gift baskets, at all the presents, and at all the many things that they've been sent. So many items for one little baby and he isn't sure what he should take. "Soph-," he starts to call out then stops himself. No, she needs to sleep and it's just a quick trip.

He puts a small bottle in the crib and an extra blanket off to the side. He then pulls on his jacket and sets out. He isn't  far down down the pavement before he hears an excited squeal and someone yelling Ben at him. He looks up on reaction and dammit. Fuck.  FUCK, he thinks. He hurries ahead and wonders if he should turn back. He's upset. No way they could see his son in the photo but dammit. Are they stalking him now? Is this the life he's made for his child? Fuck just absolute fuck. He thinks about turning back but worries that Martin is already at the cafe and it'd be rude to stand him up. Plus he does want to pick up some fresh fruit for Sophie, so he walks a little faster. His son makes a soft gurgling sound and lets out a small sigh , Ben calms down immensely. He'll do whatever he has to keep his son safe from everything and damn the consequences. His son will know nothing but love. 

When he reaches the cafe sat outside the small market he's a bit defeated to not see Martin there already. He reaches for his phone and realizes that he left it behind on accident and can't even check in with him. He smiles at Henry the shopkeep and takes a look around inside, picks up some cherries, kiwi, and a few strawberries for Sophie. He pays and puts them under the pram to take back and then decides to take a seat.

He'll give Martin a few minutes to show up then head on home. He smiles at the waiter and nods his head to indicate his usual latte. He'll wait for Martin. Surely Martin will actually come. For a second he starts to worry that it was all a ruse and that Martin hasn't forgiven him and the second turns into minutes and Benedict waits and waits and waits.


	4. June 21st 2015 (part two)

Martin sits in his mini cooper looking over at the cafe where he and Ben shared many a conversation, tea, and bad jokes. It wasn't quite "their place" , but if there were any location that came close to having that moniker then it was this little cafe/market. So it made sense as to why they were meeting there, and it also made sense as to why Martin couldn't quite make himself get out the car and go sit, waiting, pretending like things were the same. They definitely weren't the same. 

He knows he's been a shit. He knows he has no leg to stand on. He knows this is a fucked up situation with complicated shit all around but still he can't help but jut his chin and think that back to that night not so long ago when Ben was beneath him and Martin was pounding into him mercilessly, magnificently.  It felt so good but he stopped for a minute, let his thrusts change into a slow groove. Ben, the gorgeous arse, looked up at him, half-lidded eyes blinking slowly, and then he smiled and said he loved him. Later that night they were lying in bed next to each other, falling asleep, whispering sweet affirmations of love to each other. Ben leaned close to Martin's ear and said he wanted this night to go on forever. So, Martin thinks, if that is what he wanted then how the hell are they here now? Like two old lovers forcing themselves to meet up and pretend like everything is okay when it's just isn't. Only kisses on the cheek from now on.

"Ahhh fuck," Martin says aloud and decides he's had enough moping. He'll go over there, wait. When Ben shows up he'll pretend it's fine. He knows it'll be awful but it'll be fine too. He's about to get out his car when he sees Ben walk up.  He's upset.  Martin can tell Ben's moods from a hundred yards away. Ben's shoulders are low, his jaw is tight, his eyes are darting around as if he's looking for something else to pop up. Martin knows Ben's house isn't that far from here so nothing could have happened between there and here to make him so annoyed.  So the only thing it could be is he's annoyed just to be here. Probably upset that he has to leave his wife behind just to show Martin a face. _Shit._

Martin sees Ben go into the market next to the cafe and then he's out again. He looks no less annoyed but he does take a seat. He nods at the waiter there and sits, tapping his fingers and checking on his son in the pram. His son, Martin thinks. That's his son. Ben is a father. Of course he doesn't have time for Martin anymore and Martin's a fool to think he would. He watches Ben for a few more minutes and waits for Ben to pull out his phone and ask where Martin is, try to hurry him along, maybe make a joke that it's Martin being late for once. But he doesn't. Martin looks down at his phone on the seat  next to him and it doesn't buzz. He even picks it up and swipes the screen to make sure he didn't miss something. Nothing. If Ben really wanted him there then he'd say something, anything. But he doesn't. Martin knows. 

So Martin starts up his car and prepares to drive back. He pecks out a message to Ben saying he thinks he might be coming down with something so he can't make it. It's a shit excuse, canceling on the mere possibility that he might be sick, but he's too annoyed to put in effort thinking up a better excuse. 

_[Comments, Kudos, and Subscriptions make my day.]_


	5. June 26th 2015 [Part One]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super super sorry about the delays bros. Just got busy. I will always come back to this (unless I die) so don't worry that it's gonna be abandoned.

The baby is crying. The baby is crying again. The first bit where they were lucky and the tears were few and far between are but a distant memory. Sophie rolls over and yawns a bit. "Your turn."

"I know. I know. Sorry just give us a minute."

Ten minutes later Benedict is startled awake by the silence. He sits up in bed and looks over at Sophie in the rocking chair nursing the baby. 

"Oh shit, Soph. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's fine," she says smiling. "After all he was hungry and I hadn't pumped so..." she trails off and looks down at the baby, cradles his head just so, reaches down and lays a gentle kiss on his head.

"You're perfect. Have I ever told you that?"

"You may have mentioned before."

"Not enough though. Never enough."

"Plenty," she says and a grin spreads across her face. "Though I never get tired of hearing it. She winks at Benedict then goes back to the baby. "It's still early. You should sleep."

"You're telling me to sleep when you deserve it far more."

"I'm telling you to sleep because you have more rehearsals soon and you'll get awfully cranky if you're having to do willy boy with no sleep."

"Willy boy?"

"Hey I'm tired. Cut me some slack." She closes her eyes and takes a breath. He knows what that means. And then she's out with it. "So."

"So?"

"Oh come on you. Out with it."

"There's noting to be out with," he says. He swings his legs out and stands. Goes over to drink the bottle of water he left on bureau the night before. "Really," he says finishing the drink.

"You left here the other day and you were going to see Martin. You came back not long later."

"I-'

"I was asleep not dead. I heard you come in."

"Shit," Ben says. "I thought I was being quiet."

"You were," she says. "I just have cat like ears."

"I have to remember that."

"Nah forget. It keeps me mysterious."

"You are mysterious."

"Nah."

"Mysterious and wonderful and progressive and the whole perfect thing. Too soon to mention again?"

"Avoiding, Benedict. Come on. Tell your wife all about why the meeting with your co-star lover didn't go quite well."

He laughs. She laughs. it is a different situation but she takes it with ease and it is yet another reason he marvels at her.

"He didn't show," he says barely above a whisper.

"Oh, Ben, I'm so sorry."

"No it's fine. It is."

"Fuck no it isn't." She breathes a harsh breath and tightens her lips. "How bloody weird would it be for me to yell at him for this?"

"What? You gonna call him up? How dare you not shag my husband?"

"Something like that."

"You're silly," he says. He walks over and kisses her on her forehead, looks down at the baby who finishes nursing at that very moment. The baby's eyes drift shut just then and Ben once again tries to reaffirm to himself that as long as he has this then everything else doesn't matter. Still part of him is still hurt. He didn't text Martin back. An excuse that he might get sick? The ultimate brush off. So he came back that day and brought Sophie the fruit. He read more of the baby books, started writing the thank you notes for all the gifts, he worked on his lines for Hamlet. He worked very much to not think about Martin. 

And then last night , of course, he decides to go online and have a bit of a search. It'd been a while since he indulged and then not even a few clicks later he was looking at dozens and dozens of photos of Martin at some new mod exhibit. He looked good, of course he looked good. He also looked carefree and fine, like he had not a care in the world, definitely didn't seem like someone who cared that he just fucked off his friend. He knew it was just a public thing but God he didn't look like he missed Ben at all.

"I think you both need time," Sophie says bringing Benedict back to the present. 

"It's not a big deal."

"That's the reason you've been moping around here for the past few days."

"I am not moping. I am parenting. This is what fathers do."

"Sure. So you going to let him know he upset you."

"I wasn't upset!" Ben realizes his voice was pitched a tad too high and a tad too unbelievable. He tries for a smile. "I mean to say it was a bit of a punt but I'm over it."

"Okay. Well. We're going to that do at the American Embassy in a few weeks. Maybe invite him and Amanda along. Maybe that's all you need is some good old fashion American patriotism to get you both talking again."

"Leave it," Ben says.

"Fine, fine," Sophie says. She stands slowly and walks over to the baby's crib and places him gently down. Just like all the books and everyone says. She is a natural at this, Ben thinks. "But invite them along. It could be fun."

"Fine, I will."

She kisses and heads out of the bedroom calling back. "I'm taking a shower. By the time I get back you better have reached out."

"Why do I have to?"

"He did it the last time."

"Then he stood me up like the wanker he is."

Sophie pops her head back in the room. "I thought you were fine."

Ben frowns. "I am."

"Good."

"And I'm going to read what you send him so you better make sure it sounds good."

"Oh," Ben says looking down at his phone. "It will be."

Ben starts to type and type and type. Before long he looks down and sees that he has used the word "fuck" no less than fifteen times.  He sighs and erases. He checks on the baby and then heads downstairs to the kitchen. He's going to need coffee for this conversation. Lots and lots of coffee.


	6. June 26th 2015 (part two)

Martin is a little bit hungover and not quite ready to wake up when he hears his name called in just that way, the way where he knows he's in for it.

"Did you really stand up Ben?"  
"I-what?"  
"Sophie just called me," Amanda says and nothing else. He hates when she does this. She wants him to fill in the details but he'd rather she just ask outright. He's silent for too long and then she follows up with. "Well?"

"He seemed like he'd be busy so I just left him to it." There, he thinks. It's not quite the truth but the truth sounds that much more pathetic, whiny even, and is she really upset about this?

"I'm really upset with you about this," she says. _Ahhhh._ "Why can't you just be the bigger man and move past this? You have no right, Marty. Come on."

"I have every right!" He yells and immediately regrets it. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm just--this situation is just. I'm sorry."

"Oh, love," she says. "I think--." She pauses and takes a breath. "If you really want it to be all said and done then fine. But you work together. And you know , love, twenty bleedin' years from now they'll probably still be asking about him in your interviews. Why not at least make peace with him? End that part of your relationship entirely and find some closure?"

"You're right. I should. I don't know. I should."

"You should," she says. Amanda walks over and sits on the bed next to him. Martin rolls over on his back, reaches out his hand to settle on hers. "You're fuckin lovely you know that?"

"I do," she says with a smirk. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Well thank you for saying but we both know I'm the luckier of the two."

"Also true."

"You think he's pissed?"

"I think she's pissed."

"This is...weird."

"This is our life and weird or not I love it."

"Me too. So my ex-lover's wife called my wife to say?"

"Mostly we talked about babies and how she's really exhausted. I told her a few tricks I learned. Also reminded her it's perfectly okay to say you need time by yourself."

"Smart."

"Then she casually mentioned that Ben was still a bit down in the dumps about you being too busy to meet the other day."

"Casually you say?"

"Well it was the priority of her conversation but she wanted to see what we could do to get you two crazy kids to stop acting like ya know... kids."

"Ahh," Martin says. He can't help but wonder how much Ben knew about Sophie calling Amanda. "I'm sorry I didn't go," he says.

"Don't apologize to me. He needs to hear it. Good or bad you guys need to talk."

"Well...," Martin says in protest. They HAVE talked.

"In person," she amends.

"Fine," he says, jaw tight.

"Just don't be a bastard."

"I'm never a bastard."

Amanda laughs. She stands up and walks out of the room still laughing.

"Hey!" Martin says but she doesn't respond. He does clearly her walk down the stairs giggling at him.

Well, he thinks, at least not in this he isn't. He saw what he saw and reacted accordingly. Not a bastard move at all. And if Ben really did give a shit then he would've said something, anything back to him. But did he? No. And that's fine. It is. Because Martin understands that he's busy with his kid and everything else. And isn't that a familiar situation? Ben is too busy for anything outside his own little world.

Still, Martin thinks, Ben was so annoyed he complained to Sophie who in turn complained to Amanda then Benedict might have, just might have actually wanted to see him.

"Fuck."

He hears his phone ping and somehow he just knows that it's him.

'FaceTime in five?' the message from Ben reads.

'Sure.' Martin types out without thinking. They've rarely used this feature, only in those rare times when Ben said it would take too much effort to talk without seeing Martin. He'd never asked Ben exactly what he meant by that. He isn't vain really but he does flick the camera app open to see exactly how he looks right now. Bedhead, hair sticking up in so many different directions. He wipes his mouth to make sure there isn't any drool marks still there. He looks around the room and realizes he probably has time for a shower.

Martin stands quickly , throws his phone on the bed. He is walking towards the loo, strips off his pyjamas and t-shirt. He is about to jump in the shower when he hears his phone ring. He leans back in the doorway of the room and over to the bed. He can see his and Ben's stupid mug from that night when they were having a drink and they knocked their heads together and took a dumb selfie. The phone is on its third ring and he knows it'll go to voicemail so he makes a dash from the doorway over to the bed, he makes a final leap and jumps back on his bed, lands on his front, scoops up the phone, and presses answer. He is breathing a bit harder than usual as he tries to focus the phone towards his face. He can't help but think he really needs to take up some sort of fitness program soon because ow he thinks he pulled something just from that quick bit of movement. A nanosecond later Ben's face pops up just as Martin is trying to gasp in more air and he really must start an exercise fitness type thing really soon.

Ben sees him huffing for air and a smile spreads across his face. From the corner of his lips to a twinkle in his eyes.

"Hello," Ben says with a laugh.

"Hi," Martin replies.

"Did I--catch you um--are you busy?"

"What?" Martin says. "Oh, OH. No I. Wait." Martin laughs so loud and it shakes his entire being, his shoulders seem to release with a tension he didn't know he'd been holding. "No, actually, Ben, No." He laughs one more time. "I was not doing THAT."

"Are you-- Do you have any clothes on?"

"It would appear I do not."

"I see."

"Well I wanted to wear the best for you," Martin says, waves his freehand as if he's presenting a grand prize on a game show, and gives Ben a wink. Ben in turn raises both eyebrows and his smile grows into a toothy grin.

"Well thank you, um." Ben clears his throat and um. "Well." Then his smile disappears and he looks forward into his camera phone. Martin's smile disappears from his face as well. He supposes it's time for the big talk. Martin reaches a hand up to scratch the growing scruff on his face.

"Soph pretty much made me call," Ben says.

"Okay." So he didn't want to call, Martin thinks. His lips form a tight line.

"We're going to a thing at the um--the American ambassadors and she wondered if you and Amanda would like to attend with us?"

"Um," Martin says and looks at Ben, tries to figure out exactly why he's inviting them to a thing that isn't even something he and Amanda are likely to do. Another brush off it seems.

"Not really our sort of thing. Uh when is it?"

"Second of July. I know you're not really a fan of big parties but it should be a fairly contained crowd and Sophie would like to get to know you both better. We've not really gotten together past that one time and you know."

"Yeah it wasn't a good time for either of us," Martin says and remembers back to the time. Sophie had come down to the set of Sherlock. Martin was still upset and hated how rushed and how frustrating the whole scheduling thing was. He was also, alright he can admit it now, a bit broken over how different Ben seemed to be those days. Martin wasn't really the most welcoming to the woman Benedict was going to marry.

"Well," Martin says, sticks out his tongue, looks away from the camera to say this. "I mean. Fuck it, Ben. Honestly I don't know if it's a good idea. Do you want really want us there?" He looks back to the camera and is willing Ben to just fuckin say it so he can say it too. It's a time gone by and obviously they've all moved on.

"I," Ben says, "Well you know, Sophie..." Ben trails off and looks away from the camera, then looks back pointedly. "It would be nice to see you."

"You're looking at me now, Ben," Marin says with a smile, forced but still a smile.

"I mean really see you," Ben says. "Clothed ya know."

"Okay, yeah," Martin says. "Okay." He smiles just a bit more genuine, there's hope that they'll get past this still.

"Send us an email with the info yeah?"

"Okay," Ben says.

"Alright I should probably."

"Shower yeah," Ben says.

"Yeah. Right see you."

"Right. Bye."

 

Martin clicks end on the call and rolls over on his back, looks up at the ceiling. He can't help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation is and laugh he does. He thinks back to a time when it wasn't this complicated, when he and Ben would see each other on and off. He thinks back to the time when Ben invited Martin over to go over lines and watch a bit of Laurel and Hardy. They did actually go over the lines but the film went unwatched as Martin and Ben simply talked and enjoyed each other's company. It was around the third drink when Ben came back in the room carrying the glasses, Martin patted the seat next to him on the couch. Ben smiled and sat both their drinks down then took the seat.

"Come here," Martin said.

"Nuh uh," Ben replied.

"Oh no?"

"Nope," Ben said with a smile.

"Why not?"

"Because I have a surprise for you in the bedroom."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes."

"And when will we go to the bedroom?"

"Well if you're good," Ben said and caught Martin's eyes then grinned. "Very good that is, then pretty soon."

"I see. And how do I prove this goodness?"

"You get on your knees and suck me off."

"Oh!" Martin said. "Bold today are we?"

"I learned from the best."

And Martin did indeed get on his knees and sucked Ben off until he was absolutely whining to come, but Martin pulled off before he was pushed over."

"Good?" Martin asked.

"Fuck, yes, very good. Just, just give us a minute."

"No rush." Martin sat back on his heels and turned over to watch Laurel smack Hardy.

"Oh come on, Martin, please. Finish me please?"

"Nah."

"You bastard."

"Hey," he said. "Calling me names won't make me suck you off any faster."

"Well what will?"

Martin turned around and looked at Ben. He took Ben's cock in his hands and licked a swipe over the head. "Tell me your darkest fantasy, Benedict Cumberbatch."

Martin smiles at the memory of the day. He remembers every beautiful word Benedict said and his hand reaches down to his cock and gives it a stroke. He decides to take that shower and mentally replay that full day. Fuck, he thinks, just fuck. He can't help but be pissed that it'll never be that way again. When the email from Ben shows up later he doesn't even open it before deleting.


	7. July 2nd 2015

“Benedict, lovely to see you. Hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

  
“I am, I am. Thank you for the invite, Matthew.”

  
“And did you bring a guest with you?”

 

  
“Me and Sophie are here but apologies looks like my other guests are a no show. And , thank you, of course for being so accommodating with the late additions to the guest list.”

  
“Not at all. I’m happy to do it for a future fellow American. Is that right? I heard you’re moving to California?”

  
“Ahh.” Ben laughs. “Not quite. Renting a place during a film but I’ll always come home. And home is England.”

  
“Well a guy can’t help but trying,” the American ambassador gives a smile. “ Well enjoy the party!”

  
Ben walks away with two drinks in hand and heads over to sit down with Sophie. They’re out for the first time since the baby and he’s really happy to have her out even if other things didn’t go quite as planned. He sits the drinks down and drops a quick kiss on her cheek.

  
“Ooo drinkies!” she says and pounces. Sophie drinks it down quick and smiles coyly at him. “Don’t judge me. It’s been nine months for me! Plus I went on a pumping spree just so the baby would have enough to eat..”

Ben laughs. “I’m not judging you. I’m finding you charming.”

“Oh,” she says. “Good.” Then she takes his drink and sips a bit of it as well. “Just make sure I don’t make a fool of myself tonight.”

“As if you could ever.”

“You forget about that New Years Eve party a few years back. I was a fright.”

“You were charming.”

“I was a fright. But I do love you, you filthy liar.” She smiles wide then leans in for a kiss.

He kisses her gently and lovingly. He just prays no one has a camera on them right now.

“So,” she says. “I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Was there even a suggestion that you would?” He says while leaning in closer to her, smiling brightly at his wife.

“No, just thought you should know in case you were worried. I’m here for good.”

“Good.”

“And I’m not going to mention the thing because I know you’re sad but maybe it’s time to let go,” she says. “just a bit.” She adds softly.

Ben turns away for a second, blinks a few times. It’s not as if he’s going to cry but the idea of truly letting go is beyond him. He’s unfailingly loyal , if not just to the person, to the hope. And he does hope he and Martin can get beyond this. But maybe she’s right.

“Maybe,” he says but doesn’t expand. He can’t.

A few moments later someone wants a picture, Ben takes Sophie’s hand in his and hangs on to her like she’s a life preserver because if it’s true that it’s over then she is all he has and he has to hold on to her.

***  
He keeps his promise to let Sophie get a little drunk and he saves his drinking for later that night. At home he drinks more than a few fingers of scotch and ponders over the problem of just how to show Martin that he’s still in it, even if Martin isn’t.


	8. July 10th 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OF COURSE I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING AFTER THAT!!!!

It's 11:00 pm and Martin can't sleep. He's also still hasn't read through the script his agent sent over. On top of that he's still feeling the guilt over failing to return Mark and Andrew's calls. Amanda pulled up the video and showed him they'd all got together to send a message to the fans.  
And because he was a shit he wasn't part of the video. He appreciates their fans tremendously so he feels utterly crap for having missed it. So icing on the frikkin cake of the shitty week he's had. Still, he thinks, it meant he didn't have to see Ben. 

Pathetic, he thinks. He also adds a long line of mental cursewords thrown at himself. And he's bloody tired of feeling like this. So he decides that it absolutely has to be over.  He'll tell Ben that he thinks isn't all a bit broken and so they should only talk when they absolutely have to work together. He'll also return Mark's call and ask him to ensure the break is even longer. It's a shitty thing to do but it's time to move on and not being around that group is what he needs.  

Martin isn't really one to drink but he decides  quitting the show where it all began seems like a damn good reason to take a drink. He pours himself a double, triple, quadruple...a very large drink. He pops in a movie and sits back on their sofa to relax, live with his decision. Should he write Ben a text or call him? A letter? Ugh. He decides he'll text him and ask him for a meeting. Maybe they'll even take a photo together for the fans and that'll make up for him missing the video.

He looks down at his phone and over to his drink. He ignores both and pops in a Blu-Ray, and picks up his Ipad.  He pulls up the PDF of the script and starts to read. At least he'll do that before the day is done.

A few hours go by  and he's at least read his lines in the script, he'll take a glance at the others later and then decide if it'll be the project he decides to do in late 2016.  He's also watched _Swiss Miss_ and the _Flying Deuces_. He glances over to his drink.  In the past few hours the ice has melted and he has wasted the very expensive whisky. It's now too watery to drink and isn't that just another thing he messed up. He's about to head up stairs, not even dunk, still very unhappy,  when he gets a text. Before even looking at it he knows it's Ben.

 

"It's now or never," he says to no one but himself. Time to say bloody well goodbye to Benedict bloody Cumberbatch.

He pulls up the phone and reads the quick text.

**_The 'England Skies' were lovely today. xoxoxoxoxo_ **

He knows this. It's not quite code as much as fun game they play. The name of a song they want the other to listen to mentioned casually in a text or email. So he picks his ipad back up. He pecks out E-N-G-L then stops and instead decides to just quickly search for a picture. It's ridiculous but he knows Ben must've gone to Wimbledon and he wonders, just wonders. If Ben is playing the song game then maybe he's doing the signal as well. 

They started it a while ago. At first it was an accident they shared a few of the same pieces of clothing. Of course Ben had only picked them up after Martin started explaining more about fashion. Ben bought Just a few pieces here and there. Then it expanded when they started this thing. They even bought a few of them together. And so when they were apart they'd make a point to wear an item to say hello, hi, I miss you.

And it was dumb, so dumb...but fun. Still it seemed like no one noticed.  So they kept it up from time time time. Martin leans back and tries to remember but he just can't recall. The scarf? The hat? He's not sure.

He googles Benedict's name and Wimbledon together and there it is. A slew of photos from the past day. Martin can't help but huff out a laugh as a grin spreads across his entire face. The boy's not subtle, Martin thinks. Not only is Benedict wearing one of their shared items but it just happens to be the jacket that Martin was last publicly seen wearing.

Martin laughs more and then somehow it turns to, not tears,  no. He's not bloody crying to know that Ben still cares about him and what they shared. But ,well, there is emotion there and it's similar to the damn breaking when you feel like there's going to be another day...or some other horrible mixed metaphor. It's just nice to know, he thinks, bloody fuckin nice.

Martin picks up his phone to reply then remembers the song. He pulls up the song on YouTube and lets it play. It's a sweet , little melody. Not really his style but still nice enough. It doesn't quite fit but he enjoys it all the same. He knows it must mean something to Ben so he gives it a full listen. Finally he hears the last lyrics and he knows he can't just text. Fuck no. He has to see Benedict right fuckin' now.

 

 _Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_And I'll keep on waiting_  
_I'll keep on waiting_  
_I'll keep on waiting_  
_For you_  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_


	9. July 11th 2015 (Part One)

Martin is driving his car like a madman. A bloody silly madman, he thinks. It's definitely over the recommended speed and at night so he puts that in the madman category.  It's the absolute bloody dead of night but it couldn't wait. _He_ couldn't wait. Not with Ben making grand declarations of love in view of anyone with a set of eyes. He wore the jacket and initiated their little game again. He even sent him a bloody valentine in the form of a song with lyrics declaring he would wait for Martin. Well, Martin thought, why should he have to wait? Both of their wives are not only okay with it but they both seem to be rooting for it. Probably wants to watch, Martin jokes to himself.

"Bloody pervs," he says aloud to the empty car. He didn't wake Amanda to let her know he was going out, he notes to himself that as soon as the car stops he'll need to send her a text so she knows. He also didn't let Ben know he was heading his way either. And for a second he starts to wonder if that's a mistake too. Part of him thinks this is his grand gesture. This is his response to Benedict's declaration. So if it goes as the films go then he can't let him know he's coming. He has to race to the airport just in the nick of time or in this case, drive a bit far at night. Not as dramatic as one of Richard's movies but given the circumstances then this is enough, he thinks, or at least hopes.

He's headed down Barnet By-Pass when he hits traffic. Every vehicle is moving at a snail's pace.

"Bloody hell. What the bleedin?" He slows down and joins the queue of cars that all seem to be wondering why no one is moving.

Traffic is never fun and traffic when you're in the middle of making a bold but rash decision is even worse. He just needs to get there or else he's not sure he'll go through with it. It is weird after all. Isn't it? Or is this just something that some people do now? Or not even just now, he reasons. Affairs and women or men on the side has been something people have done since before the bloody Romans built the roads. And him and Amanda have never been weird about it either. In fact it's why he loves her. It was her idea and her who said that it's important for them to be able to do this. As long as they came back home to each other. And he will come back to her, maybe not tonight if all goes well, but he will. Because he loves Amanda. But right now more than anything he needs to fuckin see Ben.

It is then that he remembers Barnet has planned construction for the next few nights and he should've taken Watford Way. He's in for a long wait to get to the exit and then he'll have to start over again. He reasons that as he's moving so slow it's okay to send Amanda a message. He picks up his phone and sees three missed calls from her. Dammit he had it on silence. He pecks out a quick message to her and hopes it's okay with her.

_**Going to see Ben. Okay?** _

Not a few seconds go by before Amanda replies with

_**!!!!!! :) :) :) xoxoxoxo !!!!!** _

Martin shakes his head as a smile blossoms over his face. He types back 

_**Perv** _

Then places his phone back in the other seat.

It is ten minutes later of him hating himself for not having seen to the stereo in his car earlier. It has been on the blink for a while now and finally it gave out the day earlier. He can still get two radio stations, but the sound is so low that he can only catch the rare lyric. He is left with nothing but silence and his thoughts and he knows that isn't a good thing. He and the other unlucky schmucks are barely moving and the crew of people working on the roads seem to be all laughs, as if they're amused by the people stuck in the situation just because they didn't pay attention to the bloody news. Martin wants to yell at them that he did pay attention and he was well aware of alternate routes and he just fuckin' forgot so they can stop their giggling right now.  Then he realizes this is pointless paranoia and he knows part of him is trying to find someone to be upset with because he's upset with himself because he's stupidly nervous.  He's way past the age where it's acceptable to have butterflies over seeing someone you fancy. Still it's also brings a smile to his face because it's nice to not be passed that point.  So he revels in it for a full minute before he's cursing at the complete and total dick who is trying to bloody merge in front of him with no warning. God he hates driving sometimes, most times.  Still he let's the guy in.  The complete and total merging dick gives Martin the standard wave of thanks and Martin has to fight to stop himself from turning his wave of acceptance into a middle finger in view of the guy. Mentally he's grown about 8 more arms and is using every available hand to show that guy what an ass he is.

Finally he's at the exit and , of course, the queue to get off the road appears to be moving even slower than they were before. And Martin can't fuckin damn fuckin stand this because he's supposed to be riding up on a bloody horse and being dramatic and amazing. Instead he's stuck in fucking traffic.  And this isn't good. So he lets himself go for a second, lets himself be completely and totally pissed off because it won't do anyone a bit of good if he keeps driving wanting to murder every bloody person in his way. So he curses and curses and slams a fist on the steering wheel. And never has the word "fuck" been used in such quick succession and in so many varied ways.

When he finishes he is breathing hard and he laughs at himself. Just then there is a ping on his phone and simultaneously the roadway clears. He can't reach for his phone as the road is finally, finally moving so he ignores it. He takes the off ramp , journeys down the street, and instead enters Watford Way to start this all over again.

***

Twenty minutes later Martin parks outside of Benedict's, not quite sure what to do. It's late, very late, and he doesn't want to wake the baby, or Sophie for that matter.  Still it's now or never so he reaches for his phone with the intent to call Ben and ask him to please come out to speak to him.

What he sees on his phone is something so utterly unbelievable and it makes him laugh for a full minute. 

 


	10. July 11th (part two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is almost the end of this run. Hopefully those two will do something to start up another fic and this will turn into a series. But for now it's been a fun ride and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did. Those two eh? Two more chapters and we're done.

It was a gamble, an absolute gamble, not something he was used to doing, especially in the past year. In the past year he'd been doing his absolute best to play it safe and do the right thing, the expected thing. But now he can't stand it and he just wants them to move on and fuck can't Martin just be kissing him right now? Can't that just happen? Because he'd very much like that. He's so close to having everything he's ever wanted and if he could just figure out something to do or say to make Martin understand that he didn't mean for this schism to grow so large and exists for so long.  

 

Benedict Cumberbatch is sat at Wimbledon and barely paying attention. He's bored and even Sophie doesn't want to be there. But he has obligations and if he just shows up on the final day then what kind of twat is he? And he's wearing the jacket. THE jacket. Surely Martin will see and that'll tell him at the very least that Ben's thinking about him. The day goes on long and he only gets into the game a few moments here and there. Otherwise it's checking his phone waiting, waiting for Martin to see a photo and just call him or send him a message or smoke signal...anything. 

"You okay?" Sophie asks as the day wears on.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," Ben responds. He doesn't tell her that yet again he's left feeling stood up by Martin. He didn't tell her what the jacket meant and he didn't tell her why he desperately wanted to stay to the end of the match. It's a bit silly but he wants every opportunity for every dumb photo.  He needs it to get back to Martin and he is sure that finally, finally, fina-fuckin-lly they'll move on to something better, something together. It's a day dream, he knows, a fantasy that only plays out in Richard Curtis movies or ridiculous rom coms. But he wants this moment in which he feels like everything has come together. But the match goes on and on and to an end. He and Sophie both look miserable and he knows people will talk but he can't be arsed to care. 

They are driven home and the silence fills the car. When they get home they both dote on the baby. So many hugs and kisses for their little one. They end the day with  a good night kiss and he sends Sophie off to bed with a peck on the cheek and a promise to turn in eventually. He knows she most likely knows something is wrong but thank God she isn't pushing because he just can't talk about it, not again. He can't face that he's ,once again, made a fool of himself.

Ben puts on his ipod to shuffle, sits back on his chair, and picks up his marked-up version of Hamlet and starts to memorize again. He's still worried that he'll forget a whole stanza on opening night so he goes over every sentence, word, letter for the millionth time.  Around 1:00am his eyes are beginning to droop and he thinks it's time to pack it in for the day. Then the song comes on his ipod.

The silly little song , which okay, makes him feel like a twelve year old girl, begins to play. It's sweet and he first heard it in New York when he was doing a bit of press and it reminded him of Martin then. He wanted to send it to Martin, as they did with certain songs, but he never got around to it. Too many things got in the way and it didn't seem appropriate to declare that he would wait for Martin when he was talking up his engagement to Sophie. It would've been disrespectful to her and just cruel to him. But he always felt it, the lyrics rang true, the sound and emotion, the desperation to say he would wait. He felt it with every fiber of his being. How could he not?  How could he not feel like waiting for Martin was the right thing to do? When Martin was the only one who not only saw him for who he was, but also poked fun at him in a way that made it seem like love and fun and all good things. He knows it's obvious to anyone. He knows and he doesn't care because he's been walking this path for a long time and he's committed to stay on it, but if only if Martin walks beside him every so often, or at least lets Ben trail behind him like the ridiculously in love puppy dog he is. He rolls his eyes at himself. He's ridiculous. He knows.

 

So he tries again, of course he tries again. He can't give up. He sends Martin the song in the silly way they always did, couched in the middle of a pointless sentence. 

And he waits.

And waits.

And fuckin, really Martin even after all that?, waits.

And he really should just head up to bed. He knows that he has given it his all.

 _But have you really, Ben?_ A voice in his head that sounds a lot like Martin's voice whispers at him.   _What the fuck is he worth to you?_

"Everything," Ben says aloud to no one and to everyone. He says it to himself and his fears and he knows.

And it's nuts and it's madness and God he's going to look like such a prat but fuck it.

He grabs the keys to his bike , picks up his helmet, puts on a jacket and walks out the door. 

It feels good to be back on the bike. Sophie isn't a fan of him riding it but he loves it. So he relishes this drive. He knows there is construction and so he takes Watford. Normally he'd speed a little but he wants to enjoy the drive, plus, okay he's a bit nervous. He still doesn't avoid all traffic and he's never been one to ride in between cars so he stays in his lane until it's his go to queue at the exit and on out. Finally he's there , outside of Martin's and he isn't sure what the hell he was thinking? Is he going to wake up his kids and Amanda and say "oh yeah sorry it's me Ben and I've come to profess love and yes I'm still married, hello kiddies, back to bed, and Amanda, hi, hello, I think you're okay with this Right? please say yes. I mean... because you've always been okay with it but oh maybe something has changed and oh yes Martin please stop punching me?"  
  


"God," he says inside his helmet to no one, or maybe to someone, to the actual name he called. And he can't help but find it a bit amusing, really apparently he's down to hoping God, who isn't busy ya know dealing with the horrors of the world, will somehow give him a hand and make Martin Freeman just fuckin forgive him already and probably shouldn't have cursed if he's praying for help. And is he really praying right now? What a waste of prayer. Though if he remembers his lessons right then no prayer is a waste and really someone stop him from rambling to himself.

A tap on his shoulder does just that. He takes off his helmet and standing there is a fan, not just any fan, a very zealous fan apparently because the look on her face is manic glee. He looks down and sees a Sherlock Holmes with pipe on their bag and he doesn't know if she wants to hug him or murder him.

"Oh , um, hello," he says aloud but verbally is thinking _Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck_. Because he's just been spotted by a fan outside of Martin Freeman's house and this will definitely wind up on the web and maybe he can pretend he isn't that bloke who plays Sherlock.

"Hi! Oh Gosh. I am so happy to see you!" Her American accent sounds Southern but he can't quite place it fully as the word fuck is being repeated over and over in his head because _fuck, fuck, fuck , and did he mention FUCK?_

"Right and um. How can I help you?"

"You see I'm super frikkin' lost. I'm over here with my sister. And we are staying around here but I don't know where I am. I was in a pub and then these guys were going to drop us back off at the university. She went with the others and I went with him because okay yeah he was cute.  But then he was drinking  and swerving. So I asked him to pull over and let me get out because, no offense, it's a sexy accent and all but not one worth dying for. And all I have is my sister's bag and she isn't the planner of the two so I don't have any money on me and my phone is dead and I am rambling and I am sorry but can you help?"  
  


Ben gives a laugh of relief. She doesn't know him. Sister's bag. Needs help. Of course he'll help her. He tells her to get on the back of his bike and he drives her over the university. He also tells her she was very smart to get out the car and even gives her 10 pounds just in case then he drops her off with a goodbye. She asks for his address to send it back but he waves her off with a request to pay it forward , puts on his helmet and rides back to Martin's.  In all the worry over being outed he loses his nerves about telling Martin and so he takes out his phone and sends Martin a message that he hopes will go over well.


	11. July 11th 2015 (part three)

_**"I need fashion advice. Outside yours."** _ the message from Ben reads. Martin laughter rolls easy through him, he sighs happily and turns his car around and heads home. He definitely speeds on his way back and gets there in record time just in time to see Ben take off his helmet, run a hand through his hair, then lean against his bike. Martin pulls his car close to him and rolls down the window.

  
"Did you time that so you'd look especially cool when I got here?"  
  


"What?" Ben says smiling. "Of course not. I just always look cool."

Martin laughs completely and shakes his head at him. "No, never ever will anyone ever call you cool." He laughs more then adds, "Give us a minute." Martin drives away to park his car, which he does quickly. He locks the car and walks back to where Ben is standing, casually strolling towards him tossing his keys from hand to hand, as if they meet like this every day.

Ben looks at Martin and if it's changed from the last time Ben looked at him with complete love and devotion then Martin really can't tell the difference. His eyes are shining and a sly grin is curling his lips. Still Ben doesn't know what Martin is thinking so he works to tame the smile a bit.

Still it shines through because this is the first time they've seen each other in months and regardless of anything he can't help but be completely moved by the sight of Martin Freeman, hair a bit shaggy, face a bit scruffy, eyes for the first time in months looking back at Ben with no suppressed disappointment. 

Martin looks Ben over from tip to toe and back.  Ben is almost sure, almost. But he doesn't want to presume. Everything is so close but still incredibly and almost impossibly far away. 

Then Martin steps closer to him, moves into Ben's personal space.

"Hi," Martin says.

Ben's breath catches, and it's silly because all he said was hi. Two little letters-- but it was the smile attached, the look in his eyes, and Ben knows.

"Alright?" Ben asks.

"Yeah," Martin responds, nods his head just once,  then he kisses him.  Martin reaches up a hand to hold Ben's head and tilts it just so and deepens the kiss in seconds.

Ben's lips tremble for a second , in fear that this is just another fuckin' dream, then he feels the press of Martin's body to his and Ben's arms automatically wrap around Martin and pulls him up, pulls him closer, closer. Ben kisses Martin back as if Martin is the answer to every question Ben has ever asked. He kisses him and lets Martin's tongue in with ease, welcoming him. Ben seeks it more and more and then he whimpers. Martin, of course, laughs at this.

"Did you fuckin whimper?" he asks.

"No," Benedict lies...poorly.

Martin laughs again.  He moves his mouth to Benedict's ear and whispers, "You're so bad at this lying thing. You should really give it up." He then blows hot breath on Ben's neck, nudges him with nose, lays a gentle kiss before sucking just a bit.

Ben goes fuckin weak in the knees like the total dork nerd he is and Martin has to hold him up. This, ofcourse, makes Martin laugh even more.

"Stop laughing at me," Ben says and tries to regain his composure. He is a man dammit. A father even. He will not let one Martin Freeman sized man reduce him to a puddle on the damn street.

"I can't help it. You're especially funny when you're like this," Martin says cocking his head to the side. "So you needed help with fashion or was that a clever ruse to get into my pants?"

Ben laughs. "Well..."

Martin cuts him off and adds, "Because it was kind of unnecessary?"

"Of course it was," Ben says firmly. "You're worth fighting for ya know?"

"Oh I know," Martin says with a laugh. "But the song did it. I was at your place when your text came through. I mean you coming here was just overkill. Really, Ben,  less is more," Martin says smiling widely.

Ben is about to feign annoyance when Martin kisses him silent. This kiss lasts far too long and is far too indecent for the streets of Hertfordshire but no one else is about and both men have a lot to say so they let the kiss speak for them.

 _I'm sorry, Please, Okay?, and Okay_ are unspoken words translated between them with kisses and small sounds of contentment.

Martin breaks of the kiss minutes later and takes a deep breath of air, grins back at Ben whose chest is heaving like a woman in those old harlequin romance novels. He kinda loves it. He loves the affect he has on this talk, lanky, beautiful man. "So," he says. "Uh..Richard has a place around here now.  He's away and I have the keys if you want...." He trails off and let's Ben fill in the blank. He hopes he fills them it with an acquiesce because it's been far too long since he's heard Ben gasping in his ear.

"Oh God," Ben says. "We really are in a Richard Curtis movie aren't we?"

"Nah, his movies end in a wedding. 'Fraid to say that's not really an option."  
  
"Oh, I dunno," Ben says curling his arms further around Martin. He doesn't want to let him go now that he's back here again. "I'm sure there's some weird country out there that would allow it. What do you say?"

"Gonna have to pass on that but thanks all the same."

"So if a wedding is out then what?" Ben asks.

"I could, oh I dunno, fuck your brains out. How's that sound?"

Ben simply nods, mouth suddenly dry, the word to describe how much he wants that hasn't been invented yet so he hopes the nod will do.

"Good," Martin says. "Let's go."


	12. July 12th, 2015 (End)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. Hoping to turn into a series should these two do something worthy of another set of stories.

Ben is smiling as the warm sunshine pours in through the bay window. Martin is kissing his neck and all is right in the world.

"You know," Ben says. "We'll have to be even more careful. And...I know they're okay with it now but, but-"

"Shush," Martin says and moves to silence him with a kiss. He kisses Ben quiet before he takes Ben in hand and provides him with his fourth orgasm since they entered the guest bedroom hours ago.

When they finish, shower, and dress in the clothes they both wore the day before they know it's time to say goodbye. It is in the air and weighing on them both that they don't know when they'll see each other again. Ben is looking dour and Martin can't have that so he takes Ben's hand in his and says "We'll make it work, okay?"

"Alright," Ben says with a smile.

"Now about that fashion advice. I assume you have some stupid suit picked out to pomp around in the royal box?"

"I don't know what you mean by pomp but I do have a suit as one should."

"Well then," Martin says and goes to Richard's closet. "I know it was a ruse but...," Martin reaches in a pulls out a teal colored knit tie. "Whatever you're wearing this will make it look better, less stuffy."

Ben takes the tie in hand and looks at it, he's frowning, Martin immediately notices.

"What? Okay you don't have to wear it. Just a suggestion."

Ben nods his head and says nothing but pockets the tie. They bid each other goodbye with a kiss and a promise to meet soon. 

 

***

Benedict is having fun. He and his father are seen to their seats and he's happy to be here with him.  He tries very much to not let the tie thing bother him and he, of course, wears it. Even if it wasn't bought for him, Martin picked it out and he definitely wears it with pride.

Then his phone rings. Ben sees the name, smiles, and happily answers.

"Hello," he says in a hushed tone that he hopes says things he can't say since he's in public. 

"I figured it all out," Martin says.

"Really? What did you figure out?" 

"You got upset because you thought I was shagging Richard."

Ben tries to deny it, because not that exactly,  but Martin is on the right track.

"Not exactly."

"Well you were upset that I bought another man a tie, another man who wasn't you. Well you're wrong."

"But didn't you? Not the first thing. But you did buy it for him right?"

"No, you prat. I bought it for you but shit happened. I already had that exact tie. I didn't want it to go to waste. One day he was over the house, it was his birthday soon, and I'm a forgetful shit so."

"Oh!" Ben says and the largest grin in existence spreads across his face. He is quite sure they can see him smiling from space. "Oh," he repeats quieter. His heart fills to the brim and God he wishes he could say something, the thing, THAT thing. But he's in public. Then he replays their conversation in his head. No one should be able to tell who he's talking so he says it. "I love you."

He hears Martin's intake of breath on the other end and he hopes he hasn't gone too far, too fast.  

"Yeah, me too. Me too," Martin says.  "Come back to Richard's after if you can yeah?"

"Okay," Ben says. He says goodbye soon after and disconnects.  He looks out at the court and smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. Hoping to turn into a series should these two do something worthy of another set of stories. Comments and Kudos are lovely.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this feel free to let me know. And trust me I'm waiting for the boys to do something interesting so I can turn this into a series. Maybe Martin will go see Benedict in Hamlet?


End file.
